


October 2008 FicBits

by Merfilly



Category: DCU (Animated), DCU (Comics), Farscape, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Crossover, Halloween, Multi, Request Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-31
Updated: 2008-10-31
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random Fic Bits from October 2008</p>
            </blockquote>





	October 2008 FicBits

The rash of burglaries had sent Robin to find Catwoman, to see what she knew of this wave of crime. She had sniffed, inspected her nails, and said it was not her, the crimes were not in her line of interest, and she was not doing the bird's work for him.

That left Robin no more enlightened than before, as he'd figured out it was no woman, and not her methodology anyway. He just wished he didn't feel like he was playing some demented game of hide and seek with an unknown thief, because he kept anticipating the site, just a bit too late to be effective.

Then, one night he was there, almost in time, and the fluttering of a card and a hint of red eyes laughing told him all he needed.

Robin just wished he could be thrilled with the knowledge, instead of shivering in desire.

* * *

Part of him demanded that he stay at Dick's side, be there when his best friend, his Robbie, woke up.

Another part remembered hateful words like 'Junkie' and 'Do me a favor, Roy; stay down'.

In the end, no matter how much he wanted to be back at Dick's side, back in the trusted place of confidante, friend, soul-brother, Roy realized something.

He'd tried so hard to save Dick, that he had forgotten himself, forgotten all his own pain and trials and suffering.

So he took his daughter, looked to his adoptive people, and went to find who he was all over again.

Maybe then he'd know where he truly belonged again.

* * *

He had never truly found the strength to forgive himself for being a threat to humanity. Though he had found a life of his own with Aeryn, he always felt the weight of the wormhole knowledge pressing him down.

And then John met J'onn, an alien that reminded him at times of Zhaan with his serenity, of D'argo with his ability to be a consummate warrior, and even of Crais, with his sense of honor that was not quite human, but not like that of most of their enemies.

It seemed right to talk when J'onn was present, to tell him those things he never could quite tell Aeryn.

He knew he had chosen right, when J'onn talked back, telling him of a creature named Fernus, and how he had almost destroyed his own second homeworld due to bearing that devastation unknowingly within him.

Maybe, burdens shared would help them both heal.

* * *

He never really seemed to know if he wanted to hold her tighter, or quickly push away from the bed. She pretended not to see it, would even her breathing after they finished the sex, and sometimes the need for another won out.

Then, once he was asleep, his dark head pillowed on her stomach, arms wrapped fiercely around her, Rose would watch his face. He was still handsome, if a little pinched around the lips and eyes by life experiences. 

Too many of those came from her father. Just as this did. She was a substitute, an effigy for the man lost in madness and power-lust that Dick Grayson had once held in an uneasy place of trust and rapport.

If Rose truly wanted to be seen for herself, not as _his_ reflection, she carefully didn't show it. Because Dick gave her part of what she needed. He fed her need to be touched like a human being, kept the loneliness at bay.

And maybe, in her own way, she needed the punishing effect of being used. At least then, she could right some of the wrong her father had cast on them all.

* * *

Dick couldn't help the hiccup as he set his drink down, rather unsteadily, not that he noticed until it sloshed his hand. Then he stared at the alcohol that slowly evaporated, as if he had never seen such a thing before.

"You're staring at your hand, Dick," Kyle said, a little loud and a lot obnoxious. It made Dick look up, and he grinned, bitterness put aside for the moment. Yeah, going out with Kyle was a good idea. Not many people of legal age could match him woe for woe, and Kyle actually managed to outdo him, if he thought hard enough about stories Bruce had told.

"Maybe I like the way it looks," Dick said, and even he knew how drunk that sounded. As one, the two men laughed, and Dick slid his arm around Kyle's shoulders. "Bet it would look real good contrasted on that skin of yours."

The straight out proposition was something Roy might have tried. From Kyle's thoughtful look, Dick realized Roy probably had. Donna had been a common topic to them after all...

"Why don't we find out?" Kyle said carefully.

Dick was more than willing. If the universe decided to cut either of them down this time, at least the other one was no stranger to the pain.

* * *

Dick didn't know just what to do. How to do what he wanted, or how to make it evident that Bruce ought to be the one doing it. And though he was an excellent leader, when it came to his personal life, Dick rarely thought matters through. His plan, when it did form was rather vague and had not really included the concept of being beaten up by his replacement.

Maybe it was that willingness to take the violence that finally reached Jason, that made his younger namesake stop and wrap arms around him, and both started sobbing in between hitched breaths and gasps for air.

Jason had only wanted someone to reach out, that was all it really took to rescue the former Robin, Dick realized. And he wasn't ever going to let Jason slip away again.

* * *

_"It wasn't the scars."_

Dick shook his head, trying to clear out the memory. He never should have gone, never should have tried to face that specter hanging over him.

_"Told him that, put him off guard. Let him think I had a bit of heart for that minute."_

He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching the pillow tighter.

_"Funny thing is, I did. Just not for him. Son of a bitch didn't deserve shit from me, not after what he said about Addie. You got bad taste there, Kid, keeping a man that would bad mouth the mother of your teammate for a bitch that nuked a country."_

The first angry sob just wouldn't hold back as the memories refused to heed his control.

_"Only reason I never got around to killing him or that Tamaranian bitch was you, Kid. That was my sin, listening to my heart. Because you bit in, by fighting me so hard for so long."_

Dick flung himself off the bed, going to the window, ignoring the tears he swore were angry ones, not grieving ones.

_"Shame I got sloppy."_

Dick swallowed hard, swearing one more time that all was just as it needed to be, staring out into the great wide world with unseeing eyes, mind locked on the scene in his memory.

_Deathstroke stood, going calmly with his executioners. It had taken a week long debate, but the world court had authorized STAR Labs to find some way to make the death penalty stick. He gave Dick one last look, one last statement._

_"You meant a lot to Joe, back then. Told myself that was why I let you get under my skin. I guess we all manage to lie to ourselves."_

Dick closed his eyes, let the tears come, and pretended he wasn't really grieving the man Slade Wilson had once been, on this first night without him in the world.

* * *

_"Why isn't it enough, Oliver? What's changed?"_

The words haunted her now, as she sat with the photo album on her lap. She would not cry again. She had done the right thing. She had let him slip away, told him to leave when she realized just how far he had slid out of their lives.

_"I love you, Oliver. Good-bye."_

He had been her world, and she had not been enough. From the wish for children to the proposal and then to her barrenness, he had moved so far from her, becoming nothing more than a ghost in her life, with too many ties elsewhere.

That she had ended it did nothing to ease the pain. She still loved him, and knew he still loved her.

But it wasn't enough.

Nothing ever could be.

* * *

Joey broke into mad applause as Dick came into the room in his costume. Roy and the rest did not quite know who this... puppet... was, but Joey loved the arts. Looking Dick over from top to bottom, he had to just marvel at the beauty his friend was, even in the face paint of a puppet, with the pointed trousers and tunic of Petrushka, as immortalized by Vaslav Nijinsky. The former acrobat, true to his showman's nature pushed himself through one of the dances... minus the truly trying ballet motions... from the play. He ended between Joey and Roy, falling in a heap of limbs like a puppet with its strings cut, before smiling slyly up at Joey.

"Well?"

[BRAVO!!!!] Joey's empathic signing was all approval. Dick got himself up, hugged his friend, then took Roy's arm so they could get to the costume ball on time.

It was shortly after he walked out that Joey prayed neither the role nor the actor ever let a lasting imprint on Dick's life. He was not a puppet with invisible strings, and surely he was stable enough to not fall prey to any madness of the mind...even if he was from Gotham.

* * *

The wide, plumed hat was the first detail drawing attention away from the face. Yes, there was a patch that pulled the eye in, but the rich detail of the pirate's blouse with all the frills, the tight-fitting velvet texture of the breeches hugging muscular thighs, the solid leather of the knee boots all drew the eye further into the spell of a rogue from a century prior.

His target had chosen to dress as Peter Pan, and that made it all the more fitting, as the pirate found a way to slide close, still behind the green-clad pixie boy.

"Hello, my Robin..."

Dick Grayson's blood ran cold, at that voice, at knowing just who was behind him...and knowing he didn't dare make a scene in the middle of the charity ball.

This was going to be a long, dangerous night.

* * *

Every once in a while, killing jobs got scarce. It wasn't that things got any less violent; it just became a little less profitable. And when that happened at the same time his kid's mom needed a good bit of money, it left Floyd with a quandary.

The solution, he quickly decided, was something outside his M.O. He found a pair of pants, a shirt in that right shade of blue, a white cowboy hat, and a red kerchief with no problem. Cowboy boots, a black domino left over from Mardi Gras, a belt with two holsters, and some shiny revolvers completed the trick, and Floyd had to laugh.

Robbing a bank was boring, but doing it as an agent of Wild West's Law? Was too amusing to resist.

* * *

Peter did not really know how he was going to get through this night. If only he had won that bet with Gwen! He looked at his chest, reached down and adjusted the tissue in the bra he had been given by Gwen, then slid into the skirt. He wondered how Scots did it, because even with a pair of briefs on, the openness of the skirt was driving him nuts with vulnerability issues. He quickly pulled the shirt on, and then placed the pony tail wig on, before picking up the pompoms. He was just in time, as the doorbell rang, and he hurried down.

Gwen, in full football attire, at least did not laugh at him, as they took up their roles of Quarterback and cheerleader couple for tonight's Halloween party.

* * *

Ever since her mother had slipped up and said that about Oliver Queen, it had preyed on Cissie's mind. Only, she didn't quite know how to push the issue to a head, because she had heard her mom had been a little... obsessive about Green Arrow once upon a time.

Halloween looked like the best bet she would ever have, and she worked carefully to make the costume. When she came down, planning to meet up with everyone from YJ to trick or treat (In Gotham, with plans to keep the kids on the streets there safe this year), she was dressed head to toe in Green Arrow's classic costume, with a few modifications for her rather unmistakable figure.

Bonnie King dropped the phone in one hand and the drink from the other, staring at her daughter.

Cissie was more than willing to bet by the time she got home, Bonnie would be ready to tell everything.

* * *

Tim just crossed his arms over his chest as he watched his erstwhile girlfriend play with the fake epee, stopping when the broad brimmed hat and its feathered plume fell into her face. She pushed it back and snapped the epee home, with some difficulty, before grinning at him.

"What do you think? I'm Porthos!"

"Why Porthos?" Tim asked.

"Because he had fun and didn't turn into a putz in the sequels."

"So who am I going to go as?" Tim was almost dreading this.

"Well... you can either be a damsel in distress, or maybe Cardinal Richelieu." Her lips twisted in a smile, and Tim just sighed.

"Don't I get to be a Musketeer too?"

* * *

Bruce was still trying to remember at what point he hit his head hard enough to agree to this. The clothing was stifling, and he hated remembering just why Roma purportedly wore clothing with so many folds and pockets to it. It was bad enough he tolerated Selina; masquerading as the detested stereotype of European thieves....

"Relax, Bruce..."

Of course, the costuming looked exquisite on Dick. The younger man had the bones (of course!) to carry off the tight pants, the oversized shirt, and the waist sash as well as the cap. There was little doubt right then just where Dick got his prettiness from.

"Easy for you to say," Bruce grumped, before they both focused on the press outside the charity ball.

* * *

"YOU CAN'T GO AS THAT!" Tim all but screamed.

"Why?" Cass looked at what she was wearing. Green pixie boots, bare legs...she'd even shaved them, on Babs' recommendation, green trunks, red tunic....

"You're going as Robin!"

"Costume."

"It...no...Cass!" Tim tried to find logic he could convey, but the sight of her bare legs, and how tight that tunic pulled on her breasts was affecting _his_ tongue. "Steph, tell her!"

"Dick's going to be jealous," was her unhelpful comment. "Her legs are prettier."

Tim stared at Kon, hoping he'd talk her out of it, since he was her date, but Kon was checking those legs out closely now.

"Never saw his, but I really like what I see of yours, Cass," Kon said.

Tim decided that this was Purgatory, and began wondering what prayers could free him.

* * *

Tim wasn't sure he could ever have expected the costume Kon showed up in. From the red yarn wig to the sailor suit to the make up that made his face look like a simple doll's, Kon looked... adorable. It was really the only word for it, and yet the Super Teen was wearing it real well.

"Wow."

"What?"

"You... it looks good."

"Great." Kon smirked. "Come on, party now. Got somewhere to be in the middle of the Pacific later."

"Okay."

The next day, Tim read about Superboy appearing at the Honolulu Shriner's Hospital for Children just to fill the request of a dying boy, and fell a little more in love with his best friend's giving nature.

**Author's Note:**

> The bit with Bruce... I wrote it before I had done much in the way of education about the Roma and their related peoples. I have taken out the slur-name, and modified my word choice. Now, I do not think he would have ever taken that costume on at all. Dick on the other hand... I stand by my preference for him being of the Romani ethnic grouping, from whichever Writer gave us that canon (Devin maybe?)


End file.
